The Chinese View of Super Tuesday

Super Tuesday is either the second or third most impressive political event of the week, depending on which Chinese newspaper you prefer. Premier Wen Jiabao, in his annual report to Parliament, solemnly ordained lower growth and better protection of land rights for farmers. It was a dignified performance, though it didn’t stir the blood; it rated only twenty-six rounds of raucous applause, which was low historically, according to the count by Hong Kong’s Ming Pao.

No, the day’s Oscar for Potentate with a Heart of Gold went to Vladimir Vladimirovich, whose victory in the Presidential election earned him the headline “PUTIN WINS IN OPEN AND HONEST FIGHT,” along with a three-column photo of the great man with eyes so dewy you’d think his pony died.

By comparison, Super Tuesday—chaoji xingqi’er—looks to the Chinese like vaudeville—a raucous, travelling show with a narrative that the Chinese are straining to discern. The cast is large, and it’s difficult for Chinese viewers to figure out why some succeed and others don’t. Romney’s recurring silver-foot-in-the-mouth problem is perhaps the easiest for Chinese citizens to appreciate—their politicians make ours look like paupers—but they find the American love-hate relationship with Romney’s wealth to be confusing. “At least he got his fortune through proper means. Not much to explain. Can we say as much about Chinese leaders?” a commentator asked. As Roaring Shout put it, “Seems the way they do it is: get rich first, then become president. For us, the order is become a leader first, then….” Officialdom is less amused. With Romney using every campaign stop to reiterate his intention to declare China a currency manipulator, the Global Times pointed to an ostensible consensus that his “arrogant comments lack basic common sense.”

Some things have become clear: Santorum has a powerfully repellent effect on the Chinese non-electorate. Commentator Li Yi, like others, has tried to make sense of the faith-based campaign: “Are you sure that he’s going for the presidency, not for organizing a cult?” Perhaps the biggest surprise is that Ron Paul has his fans in China, where he’s better known by the genuinely honorific nickname Grandpa Paul. “Compared with Romney’s sugar-sweet talk, this grandfather is a lot more direct and candid,” a commentator wrote Tuesday. Returning to the gold standard might sound nuts, said Fang Qu, “but there’s something to it. When our legislature starts bringing up candid proposals like that, we’ll know there’s hope for our country.”

Evan Osnos joined The New Yorker as a staff writer in 2008, and covers politics and foreign affairs.